


Insanity

by unsettled



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Community: sherlockkink, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pattern of sorts was emerging of reckless, illogical, uncharacteristic behavior – on his part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this kink meme prompt: _Remember during the jail scene where Holmes almost fell asleep on Watson's shoulder? Yes. This. It's so fucking cute, I need this._

Watson turned another page in his notebook. He'd fished it out after hours of failing to even doze, in hopes finding some redeeming factor in his association with Holmes. It was some ungodly hour of the morning, the kind he thought he'd finished seeing when he left the army. His breath was visible against the sharp air, Holmes' head was a warm weight on his shoulder, and his leg ached abominably from the chill and earlier activities. Desperation had leant him speed he didn't think he still had, and he was paying for it now. How on earth Holmes could sleep like this he couldn't imagine.

He was utterly miserable. On top of it, he'd never shown up for tea with Mary's parents, and he'd lost the ring he finally bought – a perfect ring too, and he'd have to drag the money from Holmes to get another. He'd never been in jail. He'd never destroyed a shipyard either, but when Holmes was involved, anything could happen. And often did.

Mary was going to kill him. Once she found out. And how was going to get out of here? Bail was ridiculously high; Holmes and he didn't have anything like that on them.

He turned another page. A pattern of sorts was emerging over the last seven months. Was it really no more than seven months? A pattern of reckless, illogical, uncharacteristic behavior – on his part. Every time they worked together, Holmes withheld information that would have been damned useful, insulted, manipulated, and provoked him until he swore this was the last time he would let himself be drawn into Holmes's unorthodox investigations.

And every time, Holmes would grin at him, throw him his coat, and he'd follow. He knew Holmes well enough to wonder how on earth he managed to function without someone to buffer him from his particular madness. How on earth he'd function when Watson left. For god's sake, he couldn't even remember his gun half the time.

Holmes's breath caught, and he stirred before pressing his face more insistently into Watson's shoulder. Watson glanced down at the top of his head. God, what a mess. He was clinically insane. Just as insane as Holmes. That was the only logical explanation for why he continued to follow Holmes into such situations, continued to insert himself into Holmes's life. The clenching of his stomach and stuttering of his heart when Holmes had disappeared beneath that ship was nothing logical, and all the more reason to get away while he still could. Go to Mary, be a doctor, a good doctor and husband, nothing more. Get away before Holmes wrapped him any more tightly around his finger, heart, mind, and soul.

If Holmes had the social skills of anyone older than five, he could accept that loving Mary didn't make Watson love him any less. But Holmes had never mastered the art of sharing, and Watson couldn't have both. When Holmes woke…

Watson shifted his leg and turned another page.


End file.
